Legends of Belariath
Jindra
Day 1,
The surface burns brightly, my eyes hurt. Why would anyone want to live in a place like this? It is terrible and the light is unbearable. Aside from that, the ceiling is insanely tall that one would have no hopes of reaching it. Well, at least nothing is hiding there. I have made my way out of the cave today, and saw some passers-by, they had light skin and darker hair, unlike those of our kin. I think they are humans, but I am not sure, they all look the same to me. I still fume at the Matron's orders. How could she send me to the surface? Of all people? Her daughter and next in line to the throne. That old bitch must be afraid of me.
Day 10,
I've been in this blasted land now for over a week. Every cycle this blazing orb climbs high in the ceiling and scorches my eyes, then it retreats after many hours. One of the days, the oceans fell from the sky. What kind of place is this? Strange creatures, small and fuzzy frequent the trees and wooded areas near the cave I have been staying at. I'm not sure what they're called, but I caught one and it wasn't very bad tasting. I will need to find a civilization soon so that I might gather some food and water and a better place to sleep than the ground.
Day 132,
It has been a while since I last wrote, but things have been interesting. I headed into a town here and it seems there are many of our kind upon the surface world. I learned that the burning orb is called a Sun and that water falling from the sky is rain. The Sun no longer burns my eyes like it once did, which is a great relief as the pain was terrible. I have found it interesting that none of the humanoids up here fear us as they did down below. Occasionally, some will flee, but not many do. This is in part, due to the fact that even our own kind, male and female alike, are taken as slaves here. Some of them, females included, act nothing like they should. Pathetic.
Day... I've forgotten. It doesn't matter anymore. This will be my last entry. This surface world isn't as bad as I once thought. I have taken up modeling and tailoring and find that my hand is quite skilled at making clothes and that my body is often the envy of many males. This I can use. No, this I will use. It is the perfect disguise for a noble. Being a seamstress may seem like a simple life for a noble, but it feels good to see someone dressed in something I created. Also, many of these surface folk are quite powerful, some even rival the matrons. I think I'll not return to the Nethergloom anytime soon, I have to watch my back a lot less up here for daggers, but a lot more for a collar. I would much rather fight a slaver who has no intention of killing me. Perhaps, I will be the slaver taking my own. We shall see, after all I am a noble and nobles need servants.
Jindra was born and raised in House Tor-Nocturne. Trained as a sorceress from birth with the idea that her noble blood line would eventually take the position of Matron. She had been groomed as the royalty that she was by a secret sect of non-noble Moriel within the house that sought control for their own. They had planned to use Jindra as their puppet Matron and claim to the throne. Jindra would be no puppet though. She had known of their plans for some time, having tortured the information out of one of her handmaidens before she would make an example of her for the false reason of failure to complete her duties. Jindra would play along with the sect for quite some time while she gathered arcane power and knowledge. She would take the title of Matron alright, but she would do it on her terms.
During her training she would have learned the proper incantations and methods for enchanting items. As such would prove very useful to her if she were to become Matron. One must remain powerful and continue to gather power and creation of magical items would be a good way to do that.
Long laid plans would one day be dashed apart as Matron Yria`Cularni would task her with travel to the surface world. It was an exile, but not in name. Her duty was to gather information on the operation of other Houses in the surface lands and report back her findings through a messenger. Her terms of return were that she would spend 150 years upon the surface before she would be able to come back to the Nethergloom. Matron Yria figured that this would be a perfect way to gather information while disposing of a potential rival who she hopes would fall prey to a slaver or a blade, and 150 years would be a long time to avoid such things.
After her ascent to the surface she would use her retainers to begin gathering information about local customs and laws. She found that she would also need to find a way to fit in and become unassuming. To do this, she would become a tailor. Having intimate knowledge of intricate patterns and spider-silk from the Nethergloom, she would put this to use in creating exotic and new designs for those on the surface to wear. It would be the perfect disguise, she thought, because what noble would lower themselves to being a tailor? While doing this, nobody would figure out her true motives.